


A Treatise on Longing

by Elsie_Snuffin



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Excessive use of poetry, F/M, Five Stages of Grief, I promise, Post-Episode: s13e24 Family First, Tony Angst, established off-screen relationship, sort of, writer angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7114447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsie_Snuffin/pseuds/Elsie_Snuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony looks at the reality in front of him and refuses to accept it. This is his journey after he leaves NCIS. Post Family First, so spoilers. Established off-screen Tony/Ziva in season 10, so there are heavy references to the events of that season.  Other characters make guest appearances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! Welcome to my new story, which started swirling through my head as I was finishing my last fic, To the Sea. Whereas that story was adventurous and pretty upbeat, this one will be heavy on angst. It follows the sentiments from my story, Five Gifts She Gave Him, so it might help to read that one first. I also have a sequel planned already, so I might rearrange these stories into a special post-FF collection.
> 
> Disclaimer: Not my characters, just taking them out for a ride.

_I’m not living_

_I’m just killing time_

***

The five stages of grief. Ducky had explained Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’ theory once, years ago, while he stood in the observation bay with Tony and McGee, watching Gibbs and a victim’s husband in interrogation. The husband was alternately crying and angry at his wife for not being more careful and at Gibbs for not catching the killer already. Gibbs, having experienced loss himself, was silently empathetic, letting the husband get it all out. Ducky had looked on in sympathy, and without looking at the other two, explained the stages of grief.

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

Tony noted that this man seemed to be skipping a few of the stages, and Ducky, in that patient way of his, told him how they didn't happen in order, and one could jump between stages. He then went on a tangent about how Kubler-Ross later regretted calling them “stages,” because that implied the feelings would happen in order. She knew as well as anyone from her work with the terminally ill, he said, that grief presented itself differently for each person.

“There is no blueprint for grief, just as there is no blueprint for life,” the doctor had mused.

Tony thought he had understood what Ducky had told him, but it is only years later that he realizes that he hadn't understood, not fully.


	2. The Wild Card

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos! Please keep them coming. Constructive criticism is also welcome - I am posting chapters as I write and edit them, so if changes need to be made, I want to know.

_I'm the guy who looks at the reality in front of him and refuses to accept it._

***

He doesn't believe she is dead. There are too many things that don't make sense. He had been in her father's farmhouse - it didn't have different wings. And why was Tali sleeping so far from Ziva? And why didn't Tali's go bag smell like smoke? The scarf, one that he had given her for Christmas one year, still smelled like her when Tali was delivered to him. The smell has since dissipated like a hazy memory.

Kelev, Tali's beloved stuffed dog, didn't smell like smoke either.

And the framed photo of the two of them on the moped in Paris. Why that photo? It is big and bulky. He is familiar with her packing habits. She is economical. She wouldn't put that photo in there unless she had good reason to do so.

And most of all, she had escaped death countless times in the past. He refuses to believe that she would sleep through a fire. She was never a heavy sleeper, something he thinks was part of her Mossad training.

He is convinced that Orli Elbaz, current Mossad director and former lover of Eli David, knows more than she said. Mossad always knows more than they let on.

Plus, there’s that gut feeling. He had it before Abby and McGee brought him the news that Ziva was dead, and it didn’t go away after. The feeling is a flickering but constant flame in a dark room.

So he takes Tali to Israel to search for answers.

At first, Orli refuses to see him. Her secretary tells him that she is too busy, that she must go out of the country. Out of desperation, he finally informs her that he will sit in the lobby until she agrees to meet with him. After an hour in the sterile, intimidating Mossad headquarters lobby, Tali gets bored. Tony lets her run circles, occasionally chasing after her. Her peals of laughter bounce around the metal and glass building. Mossad employees shoot them glances, some outwardly annoyed, some blank in the same way Ziva’s face used to get when she was annoyed but did not want to show it. Tony doesn’t care, and Tali, with her toddler lack of self-awareness, does not notice.

When her short legs tire of running, she climbs onto Tony’s lap and demands stories. He reads to her from children’s books that Abby, McGee, and Palmer had given them before they left DC, using the funny voices that make her giggle. Somewhere during the third reading of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, she drifts off to sleep.

While he cradles her, he thinks about Ziva. Before he can check his thoughts, they wander to the first time he was in this building. He had just shot and killed a Mossad agent, Ziva’s boyfriend, and he had been interrogated like he was a criminal. In the end, it was a hollow victory for Tony as he got Eli to admit that Rivkin had been acting under his orders to seduce his daughter.

That confrontation with Ziva, the rage on her face as she asked him why he risked his life, and the fleeting, unidentifiable look in her eyes when he told her he did it for her. He still is not sure how it had escalated to that vitriolic shouting match, but he had done what he had to do and he stands by his decisions to this day. Even though she then refused to come back to DC, was sent on a mission, and nearly died after weeks of torture, and his shoulder still aches a little when it rains or snows.

They had found their way back to each other, rebuilt the trust that had been shattered. That is what matters. He had found her then and he will find her now.

Halfway through the second day of his occupation of the Mossad lobby, Orli Elbaz’s secretary walks up to him, heels clacking on the ground, and tells him that the director will see him now.

The first thing Orli does when they walk into her office and the secretary closes the door behind them is bend down to greet Tali. Tali smiles at her in that sunny way she has and asks, “Ima?”Orli shakes her head and notes how similar she is to Tony.

Tony uses his best interrogation techniques, but Orli gives him either non-answers or redirects the question back onto him. She is Mossad Director for a reason. He struggles to keep his cool in Tali’s presence. In the end, Orli reminds him that he is no longer an agent and therefore, is not privy to the information to which he might have had access. She asks him how many grieving loved ones had demanded answers from him over the years, and how many times he had divulged that information.

At this, he sighs and knows that she is right. He leaves the Director’s office with no answers but a stronger conviction that she knows more than she says.

He leaves Tali with her great aunt Nettie one morning and drives out to what remains of farmhouse. He is dry-eyed as he searches through the ashes for any sign of Ziva. There is none. He goes to the olive grove, searches for the stone that marks the spot where he helped her bury her new list of Wills.

He does not think about the kiss they had shared there, after he told her he was fighting for her. He doesn’t need to. The memory is all around him, in the warm and crisp morning air, in the light breeze that flutters the leaves on the trees, in the feel of the ground beneath his feet.

The stone is there and he digs in the dirt with his bare hands, ignoring the dry, gritty feeling under his fingernails. He finds the box and inside, the list. Someone, probably Ziva, crossed off a few items on the new list. Almost reverently, he grips the list, searching the paper for a hint. One of the items that has not been crossed off is _Return to Paris_. He thinks about the photo from Tali’s go bag, and the flame of hope gets a little brighter.

Later, he will wonder if he is looking for connections that don’t really exist.

He thinks about taking the paper with him but decides against it. She would want it to stay buried. He puts the box back in the hole and packs the dislodged soil on top of it, drops the stone on top to mark the spot. Then he rocks back on his heels and puts his hands his head, elbows on his knees. If he was a praying man, he would pray to whatever god he believed.

Instead, he silently tells her to come back to him and Tali. Her family awaits her.

That night, he receives a video chat call from McGee and Abby. He answers and feels a pang when the familiar faces appear on his computer screen. Abby is as hyperactive as ever and McGee counters her energy with his usual calm. After the pleasantries about how things are going with Tali, what work is like without him, how the flight to Tel Aviv was, Abby gets right to the point in that blunt way of hers. “We think Ziva is still alive.”

Tony blinks at them, not surprised because they were on board with finding her after she disappeared years ago. Hearing someone else say what is in his heart is refreshing. “What makes you say that?” he asks urgently, hoping they have something he missed.

They explain how they watched and rewatched all the footage of the farmhouse burning down, slowed it down, enlarged portions of it. They could see nothing - no rescue personnel, no ambulances, even. Wouldn't they have called an ambulance for little Tali after she was pulled from the fire?

This is not much to go on, they admit, but they have more. They use tech lingo, most of which he can't follow, but he is able to understand that they looked into Orli’s bank accounts. Like him, they don't trust her. A few weeks ago, she deposited a large amount of money into one of her accounts at her Israeli bank. Right before the mortar fire hit the farmhouse, she had moved the money to an account in a Swiss bank that Abby is still trying to access. She mutters something he doesn’t catch about Swiss banks and their security measures.

It is not a lot but it is more than just Tony's gut, and he feels a little less alone.


	3. Shiva

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! They are a fantastic motivation.
> 
> Poem is by TS Eliot. Clearly not something I would be capable of writing.

_ Let us go then, you and I _

_ When the evening is spread out against the sky. _

***

Ziva's aunts insist on sitting shiva. He is confused about this, because he had thought shiva was something done by first-degree relatives after a funeral. That was essentially what Ziva had explained to him when Eli died and she went to Israel to sit shiva for him. There is no funeral for Ziva because there is no body to bury. The Aunts explain that Ziva has no first degree relations living other than her daughter, so they are doing it for Tali.

There is no arguing with them.

The Aunts, Eli David’s sisters, dote on Tali and clearly like Tony more than Eli ever did. For seven days, he and Tali are at Aunt Nettie’s house with various relatives and family friends he has never met before and will likely never see again. 

Orli is there on the first day. She avoids him and he does not seek her out. She is clearly not willing to help him and, despite evidence to the contrary, he can take a hint. Plus, now he has Abby and McGee digging for information.

He does not mention to anyone that he does not think she is dead. They would just look at him sympathetically and gossip later whether he is fit to take care of Tali in his present state of mind. Even though he has only known Tali for a short period of time, he already cannot imagine his life without her. 

He shudders to think what would have happened if there had been no Tali. The last time he thought Ziva was dead, he went on a suicide mission, seeking revenge. In the years since, and excluding the three years they didn’t contact each other, they grew even closer. He does not doubt that he would have gone on another suicide mission to avenge her death.

During day three of shiva, he runs out of conversation. He can’t handle any more of her relatives sharing anecdotes of young Ziva doing courageous or funny things. They only knew Ziva as a child. By the time she was an adult, she was being sent out of the country on undercover Mossad missions and then she was sent to the US. It is clear that she was not in contact with many of the people who come to pay their respects even during her last three years in Israel. He feels bad for these people who do not know the adult Ziva.

The ache in his heart moves its way up his throat and threatens to smother him, and he would leave Nettie’s house and never return if it weren’t for Tali. She has so little family left, he won’t cut ties with any of them.

He retreats to a corner of the living room, keeps an eye on Tali, and thinks about Ziva. Not child Ziva, who had dreams of dancing professionally, who was forced to grow up too fast. No, he thinks about adult Ziva, the one he met when she was 23. The way she sauntered into the bullpen with that purple bandanna, asking if he was having phone sex. She was all swagger and seduction, knocking him off his feet. He never truly regained his footing around her, though he got better at pretending over the years.

As antagonistic as she would be when they were in the presence of others, he learned that when it was just the two of them, she would let down her walls and be the true her. The person she would have been if her father had not steered her into the life of a Mossad operative who never thought she would live to see the age of 30. It was this softer but just as independent and headstrong Ziva with whom he had fallen in love. 

They were similar in that they both wore masks in public. He played the clown, she played the hardass assassin. And while he was still a clown and she was still a hardass assassin in private, they were less like caricatures. She had a tendency toward seriousness and he had a tendency toward humor. One balanced the other. This is why they worked well together even when they constantly bickered like children and made everyone around them roll their eyes in frustration.

This is the truth that almost nobody knew. He suspects that Gibbs knew, in that way he knows everything. 

People knew them as partners and best friends. He had told McGee that they had a connection. He was putting it lightly. When she left three years ago, it was like he had lost his left leg and he had to learn again how to walk.

What he didn’t tell McGee was that they had been together for over a year when she up and left for her “short” trip to Israel and turned both their lives upside down. 

After years of stepping onto the ledge only to flinch and step back, they had finally made the leap from partners to lovers. It took Harper Dearing and hours sweating together in an elevator to make them realize just how fleeting life was and how much they would regret if they did not give them a try. They started by being more honest with each other, sharing personal things. The photo of his mother. Her annual ritual of going to the opera on her sister’s birthday. The importance of one Schmeil Pinkhas, Schmeil the Man of Steel. When the world did not implode with the impact of their honesty, they kept moving forward. 

They were discreet about it. At work, they were mostly their usual selves. They were sure Gibbs knew but didn’t say anything as long as they kept it out of the office. The masks that they spent years perfecting came in handy. He continued to play the clown and she continued to play the hardass assassin, and they fought, and then went home and left it all behind. At the end of the day, as they ate dinner, watched tv or read, and then went to bed together, they could not remember what they had been fighting about at work. 

One night, she had read him a poem by TS Eliot. “ _ And indeed there will be time/To wonder ‘do I dare?’ and ‘do I dare?’/Time to turn back and descend the stair/With a bald spot in the middle of my hair _ ,” she recited to him, laying on the couch with her head on his lap. She had reached up to pat the top of his head and he had frowned at her in mock offense. 

She had smirked, then continued on with her recitation. “ _ Do I dare/Disturb the universe?/In a minute there is time/For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse _ .” She put down the poetry book and looked up at him. “See? I told you this was a poem about us.”

“I thought it was a poem about a guy named J Alfred Prufrock,” he had teased her. Then he leaned down to kiss her. 

She is an interesting dichotomy. Able to take down men twice her size, fiery if provoked, lover of literature and poetry yet unable to grasp some colloquialisms. She couldn't sit still unless she had a book in her hand, then she could sit in one position for hours. She would only move when he would get bored with whatever was on tv and distract her by kissing her neck, or her shoulder, or the inside of her thigh. She would try to back him away, but he would persist until she would put her book down and lead him into bed, or the couch, or the floor, where she would proceed to tease him, a little smile on her lips, until he squirmed and grabbed her wrist.

It is these little moments, the ones no one else saw, that make him miss her the most. He has to believe she is still alive because the alternative is that she is dead and he does not particularly care to live in a world without Ziva David. 

Even when they were radio silent, he was comforted with the idea that she was across the world, maybe thinking of him the way he was thinking of her. He knew they would find their way back to each other someday. Some things, he believes, are inevitable. 

On the last day of shiva, Nettie sits down next to him and asks him about where he will go next. She seems to know that he cannot stay here. He tells her about the plan to take Tali to Paris, leaving out the part about hopefully finding Ziva there. She pats his arm and nods, tries to hide her disappointment that he is taking her grand-niece away from her. 

Then, in the midst of the silence between them, she says, “Ziva loved you, you know.” That catches his attention. She explains how she guessed that Ziva was pregnant and how she did not want to talk about the father at first. Nettie seems to have Gibbs’ gift of foresight and had guessed that it was the man who had, years earlier, yelled at her over the phone. “I knew then that you were a perfect match for my headstrong Ziva,” she claims.

The old woman’s words bring unexpected tears to his eyes. She smiles sympathetically, her eyes full of understanding after burying a husband and countless family members. She leaves him to combat his tears alone, another thing she just knows about him. He wonders briefly just what Ziva told her about him.

He believes, down to his core, that Ziva is waiting for him in Paris. Heart racing, he books a flight that night for him and Tali and whispers, “we’re on our way, Ziva.” 

Two days later, they leave Israel.


	4. Hope Beyond Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the kudos and comments! Please keep them coming. 
> 
> Lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are by Sleeping At Last. This band (well, it's really one guy) has become the soundtrack for this story. If you haven't listened to his Atlas: Year One album, you should.

_I’ve waited a hundred years_

_But I’d wait a million more for you_

_Nothing prepared me for_

_What the privilege of being yours would do._

 

Tali is excited to get on the plane. “Ima? Ima?” she keeps asking him. He smiles at her and tells her that they will see Ima soon. The toddler claps her hands and laughs delightedly at this. The passengers sitting near them smile at their combined happiness. They must believe a family is about to be reunited.

He hopes beyond hope that this is true.

As soon as the plane reaches altitude, Tali falls asleep, her head against Tony’s arm, her arm gripping Kelev. For once, Tony cannot focus on the in-flight movie. Instead, his thoughts wander to after the bombing of the NCIS building, after the sweaty hours trapped in the elevator.

For weeks after they were rescued, he couldn’t shake the feeling that part of him had been left in that elevator. She joked that it was all the sweat. He thinks it was probably the part of him that cared about Rule 12, the sacred rule that kept them apart so long, gave them an excuse to waste years. Years they could have had together, that would have revised history and kept her with him.

The impetus turned out to be her dare to ask out Agent Borin. He mentioned that the first woman he saw was technically her, so maybe he should be asking her out. “Cute, but you had your chance,” was her flippant reply, and for the rest of the day, he wanted to ask her what that chance was until he realized that the last seven years were all one continuous missed opportunity. That night, over drinks with her and McGee and Borin, he had started planning. There was no way Ziva would take him seriously unless he approached it the right way. They had long since passed the stage where him interrupting her mid-sentence to kiss her senseless would be enough. Nor was she interested in grand gestures. For her, the small things mattered more.

Instead, he started letting her in. He showed her that photo of his mother. He never talked about his mother, the first woman to break his heart, and she knew it. The closest thing that he came to a grand gesture was getting McGee to set up surround sound in the bullpen and having it play an opera for Ziva so she could honor her little sister’s memory. He also covered for her lateness to Gibbs’ Thanksgiving dinner that night.

That Thanksgiving was one of the best he has ever had. Maybe it was because Ducky was still recovering from his heart attack, so it was at Gibbs’ house. And that meant it was informal. Abby made the turkey under Ducky’s watchful eye, the sides were all there, and everyone sat wherever they wanted, plates balanced on their knees. Tony hadn’t sought her out any more than he usually did when they were with the whole team, but he found his eyes searching for hers occasionally, and he would let his eyes smile at her, a gesture just for her. If anybody else noticed, they did not mention it.

After one last drink and dessert, they had all dispersed. He had driven home, ready to wind down after a difficult case. She was waiting outside his apartment door, a move she had occasionally pulled before EJ and Ray came into the picture. He invited her in to have a drink and watch a movie. Before he could turn on the movie, she had asked him, “Why are you being so… nice to me?”

She wouldn’t accept his glib answer that he was always nice to her. She kept pressing, listing off all the little nice things he had done in the last few weeks. There was no hiding the smile on his face as she prattled on, and he had countered with, “You remembered all those things?” She didn’t answer, just quirked an eyebrow at him.

After a long pause during which he thought about lying and just keeping the status quo, he had told her, simply and honestly, “Because I like to see you happy.”

She had searched his face, looking for some clue that he was about to make a joke. Not finding anything resembling jest, her dark eyes had met his hazel ones as her expression turned serious. He couldn’t help himself then. He leaned in and kissed her. He can still remember feeling her breath catch in her throat as his lips met hers. Time stopped as she hesitated for the briefest of moments then responded, her lips moving against his, one hand on his chest, one cradling the back of his head.

Minutes or hours later, they had pulled apart, breathless, foreheads resting together. He laced his fingers through hers, waited for her to speak first. She had chuckled once she caught her breath and said, “We are in so much trouble.”

They came up with ground rules. No public displays of affection at work, or outside of work in front of the team. Work arguments had to be left at work. She had added that he could not act weird. At this, he protested, claiming that he always acted weird, making her laugh. He loved the sound of her laugh. It was not a soft and tinkly ladylike laugh. It was full and often led to snorting.

He thinks he would give up a vital organ to hear that laugh again.

The ground rules worked. In the two months before her father dropped back into her life, got himself killed, and kicked off the series of events that led to her removing herself from his life, they lived in two worlds. The NCIS world, where everything was the same. And their own private bubble, where they did almost everything together, not because they were a couple and that was what couples did, but because it was so natural. He did not join her for her 0500 runs, and if a movie was especially bad, she would go into the bedroom to read.

They fit together better than he had ever imagined they would.

And then the honeymoon had ended when Eli David took his last breath. As quickly as they had come together, she pushed him away. He knew what she was doing and he tried to stop it. He brought in Schmeil to provide the comfort she would not let him provide. He offered to go with her to Israel to deliver her father’s body and sit shiva, but she declined. “I have Schmeil,” she had explained, softening the blow by kissing his cheek and thanking him for the offer.

“At lo levad,” he had told her. And she said that she knew. But when she returned, things had shifted. They carried on with their relationship, but she became more secretive, declining to spend time together as often as before, providing flimsy excuses that they both knew were lies. Out of desperation, he had gone to Abby to ping her cell phone, and that was how he had learned that she had been working with McGee to track her father’s killer.

Later that night as they waited for their flight to Berlin, she had tried to explain further, but that green-eyed monster had made itself at home in his mind and all he had in response was one question. “So are you sleeping with McGee, too?” He already knew the answer because he trusted her and because her relationship with McGee was never like that, but he asked because he knew it would hurt her and because for all the bravado he showed the world, inside he was insecure, his heart broken by women too many times.

The look on her face, like he had slapped her, slayed the jealousy within him and made him regret the question, made him regret being mad at her in the first place. Before she could pull out of his reach forever, he had answered his own question, and crushed his lips to hers, silently begging her not to leave him.

She had forgiven him without another word, but only later did he find out that it was because she was carrying her own guilt. They never discussed anything about monogamy, how it might fit into their particular brand of unidentifiable relationship, but the betrayal stung all the same. She had sought comfort in her old friend Adam Eschel’s bed, after Tony told her that she was not alone, after she said that she knew, after she had pushed him away. On some level, he knew she wasn’t in love with Adam, that he was just a convenient way to forget the grief and regret for a few minutes. All the same, it hurt like hell, and he let her know.

It was worse because he had met Adam, and it was pretty clear that the other man was in love with her, had been in love with her for a long time, had obviously felt a sort of possessiveness over her. When he met Adam, he had already slept with her, and he knew it and Ziva knew it, but Tony had been left out of the loop, and it made him feel like a fool after the fact. He had never even heard of Adam before Berlin, although Ziva apparently had talked about him to Adam. At first, this bothered him because he thought it meant that she did not want to talk to him about her friends, but he quickly realized that he had it backwards. She talked about Tony to everyone because he was a big part of her life and she cared for him.

But she had still sought comfort in Adam’s arms after eschewing Tony’s. This hurt more than her going to McGee first for help tracking Bodnar. After, he couldn’t even look at her. In a way, it was a good thing that Parsons had chosen that time to initiate his witch hunt against Gibbs. It gave him something to think about other than how to push her out of his life, out of his heart, for good because he did not think he could handle his heart being broken one more time.

Instead, because he is the faithful St Bernard and because of their history, she apologized and he couldn’t help it. He thawed. She had said that she valued their friendship too much, which he supposes should have hurt him, because he thought what they had was so much more, but the way she hesitated and stumbled over the word, gave him pause. That night, he had shown up at her apartment door and before she could invite him in, before she could say anything, he had asked, intensity in his eyes, “Is that all we are? Friends?” 

She had shaken her head. No, that was not all. That was all he needed to spring forward and kiss her, push her back further into her apartment so he could close the door behind them. 

And then, a reprieve. A few weeks of enjoying the spring, a few weeks of believing everything would be fine, better than fine. Only for it to end with her breaking his heart again. 

He wonders what that says about him, that he continues to believe in Ziva, believe in them, when his heart gets broken over and over again. As a flight attendant informs the plane that they will be landing at Charles de Gaulle soon and Tali stirs and whimpers a little, he realizes that he knows what it says about him.

He is an eternal optimist. She is the sense of belonging that he has been missing for the last three years, and he believes that they will soon be reunited in Paris, the most romantic of cities.


	5. Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is the second chapter of the day. See end notes for translation of the poetry verse, which was written by Guillaume Apollinaire. I hope everyone has a great weekend!

_L’amour s’en va comme cette eau courante_

_L’amour s’en va_

_Comme la vie est lente_

_Et comme l’espérance est violente._

 

When he and Tali check into their hotel, the one where he and Ziva had stayed years ago, he half expects to hear that his wife has already arrived. He even asks the clerk, in his halting French, whether Sophie Ranier has arrived yet. The clerk shakes her head and he turns his head, pretends to be busy with the bags, so neither she nor Tali can see the disappointment on his face.

After a nap in their hotel room, he takes Tali to the nearby cafe where he and Ziva had eaten breakfast. They sit outdoors in the late afternoon sunlight, and when he isn’t feeding pieces of fruit, bread, and cheese to Tali, sitting importantly on a booster seat, he is watching the crowds, looking for the familiar dark curls. They linger there until Tali begins squirming and whining, “Down, Abba, down.”

That first night, after Tali falls asleep, he video chats with McGee and Abby again. They wear identical looks of frustration. “We got into the Swiss bank system,” Abby begins. “But the money that Orli sent from her personal account was already gone. The account was drained and closed two days ago and it doesn’t say by whom.”

“We couldn’t find a record of the money being transferred to another account, so we think it was withdrawn as cash, which of course makes it impossible to track,” McGee adds, downcast.

Tony takes in the news with a sigh, feels some hope drain out of him with that breath. Then he blinks and remembers a conversation on a plane headed to Berlin years ago. “Look for spikes in diamond transactions around the world,” he says urgently, and explains how she once told him about her father’s advice to both her and Ilan Bodnar, to set up a network in case they needed to disappear. To turn cash into diamonds. That was how they had found Bodnar in Berlin. Extraneous Berlin memories try to push their way into his mind, but he ignores them for now. He focuses with a renewed zest. That must be what she is doing.

His former teammates are just as excited, relieved that they have another avenue to search. They promise to talk again tomorrow evening.

The next day, he starts taking Tali to all the sights that he and Ziva had driven past all those years ago. He can still remember how it felt to have her behind him on the rented moped, her body pressed close to his, possibly closer than was truly necessary, her arms around his waist. Physically closer for longer than they had been since before Somalia, before the disaster named Rivkin and the temporary breach of trust.

Tali looks up at the Eiffel Tower, her eyes wide, mouth open. He crouches next to her, to see it from her perspective. She points at what he thinks is the iconic landmark and is about to tell her about some movies where it is featured when she exclaims, “Bird, Abba!” Sure enough, he squints and sees a lone bird flying past the Eiffel Tower. He compliments her on her attention to detail and squeezes her.

They walk down the Champs-Elysees, hand in little hand, and she points out well groomed dogs, flower petals on the sidewalk, a window display featuring brightly colored balloons. To keep his mind off the hope he feels waning every day Ziva does not appear, he tells her about scenes that featured the famous avenue in movies. He isn’t sure that she understands everything he says, but she doesn’t seem to mind his chatter.

He is surprised by how well they get along. When she first popped into his life, he had felt awed and overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility. Palmer tried to help by giving advice, but he mostly succeeded in freaking Tony out. In Israel, there was Nettie and the other aunts, and Schmeil to help out. Senior had offered to meet them in Paris, and although Tony had initially declined, he kept the offer open. Already, Senior is a better grandfather than father, and Tony is grateful.

Kelev, the stuffed dog, goes everywhere Tali goes, and Tony is very careful to make sure it does not get left behind. She is expressive, giggling, frowning, exclaiming at everything that catches her attention. He quickly finds that if she gets overtired, she whines for Ima in a voice that goes straight to his heart, cracks it a little.

At night, he puts Tali to sleep in a little crib provided by the hotel and turns his laptop on. McGee and Abby, sometimes together, sometimes not, video chat with him and update him about their analysis of recent diamond transactions. There have been no significant spikes since the Swiss bank account was drained, although there has been some increased activity in Switzerland, France, and Italy.

After a week in Paris, with no clues as to Ziva’s whereabouts and no ability to further track diamond transactions, Abby is the one to bring it up. “Tony,” she says gently, “We’ll keep looking, of course, but I think you need to prepare yourself.”

“For what, Abby? That Ziva might actually be dead?” He says it harshly and he can see the forensic scientist’s sympathetic look and it does nothing to stem the wave of anger that threatens to explode from him. “You think I haven’t been preparing myself? Oh, I have been.” This is mostly a lie. He has been pushing away this possibility, forcing it into a little box because he has Tali to take care of. The daughter he never knew he and Ziva created. He continues on when Abby remains silent, apparently channeling Gibbs. “It’s so typical of her to leave me to deal with her mess.”

At this, Abby frowns and breaks her silence. “Hey, never call your kid a ‘mess,’” she says.

“I don’t mean Tali,” he corrects quickly, then is unable to stop himself. “I mean everything else. She didn’t have the courtesy to tell me she was pregnant. And now I have responsibility for this tiny human who is great but I’m so afraid I’m going to mess her up, and Ziva gets herself killed and she leaves me alone and I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m so mad at her.”

He clenches his jaw to keep from crying. Abby has that look on her face right before she hugs someone out of sympathy and he wishes she was here, because he could really use a hug. “Mad is okay, Tony,” she says softly. “I’m mad at her, too, for doing this to you.”

A sigh, then, “What am I going to do, Abby?” The anger leaves him as quickly as it arrived, leaving behind the aftertaste of despair.

The scientist is silent for a long moment, but then she sits up straighter, tosses her pigtails over her shoulders, and says confidently, “You are Anthony DiNozzo, Junior. You are going to keep living your life. You’re going to do your best and raise that little girl to be a good person because you don’t know anything else.”

At her confidence, he smiles. Abby, with her unflagging loyalty. He waves at her and closes the chat. Without her optimism, he sags and drops his head into his hands. In this moment, he would like nothing better than to drown in a bottle of scotch but knows this is not an option with Tali there. He thinks about sending her to Nettie, then he remembers what it was like after finding out Ziva died at sea and knows this time, there will be no dramatic rescue, no clawing out of the battle. With Trent Kort dead, there isn’t even any more revenge to be had. He has the impression that if he sends Tali away now, he will never see her again. And that would hurt even more.

All he can do is not fall apart, to keep himself together for Tali. He looks over at her sleeping form in the crib, and he thinks how Ziva had known exactly what he would need to keep living without her.

Now instead of searching every face he comes across for hers, he focuses entirely on Tali, his one remaining link to the woman he loved, lost, found, and lost again. And while he still tells her about movies, because he can’t help himself, he asks her if she wants to hear a story about her mother. “Story!” she exclaims, her little round face lighting up.

So he starts a story. “Once upon a time, there was a young girl who dreamed of being a ballerina. Her father, the king, had different plans for her, and because she was a dutiful daughter who wanted to please her father, she instead learned how to be a ninja. There are a lot of things that are the same about being a ballerina and a ninja, actually. You have to learn how to walk silently. Not like how you and I walk.” He demonstrates, even though they are in a park. Tali giggles. “You have to be graceful. The girl learned all those things and more. She became a deadly weapon and that pleased her father. He sent her to do his bidding and she never questioned him until one day, he sent her to a different kingdom and there, she met a court jester. This court jester showed her a different way of living, one that didn’t involve so much death, and she found that she liked this, that she was tired of killing.”

He goes on and on as they wander around Paris, exploring bridges, watching boats, eating fruit and ice cream. Even though he keeps to the main points, he isn’t sure she completely follows the story, but occasionally she nods knowingly and solemnly says, “Ima,” like she understands everything he is trying to tell her.

When he notices that she is finally losing interest in the story, he tells her, “We’ll pick it up later,” and then he takes her hand and they run through a flock of pigeons gathered in the middle of a park path. They scatter and take flight, and her peals of laughter make him grin for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of the poem at the beginning:  
> Love goes away like this flowing water  
> Love goes away  
> Life is so slow  
> And hope is so violent.


	6. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, readers! I wasn't sure if I would have a chapter for you today, but here we are. Feedback greatly appreciated, as always. 
> 
> Song lyrics from Sleeping at Last.

Six - Homecoming

 

_ I’m a farewell that came all too soon _

_ I’m a hand-me-down that dreams of being new _

_ When I’m without you. _

 

It takes him longer than it should to notice and that concerns him. They are just finishing lunch when he finally registers the feeling in his gut. It's a feeling he has had many times before while on the job. The feeling that he is being watched. 

That Tali, his and Ziva’s daughter, the one for which he lives now, is being watched. 

He is slow paying their bill, taking the time to process this feeling, figure out the level of concern he should have. At first, he thinks maybe he is being paranoid, that no one is watching them. But no, he trusts his gut. Then, his heart leaps as he wonders if the person watching them is Ziva. That hope is squashed as he smiles up at the waitress who stops by their table for two to pick up his money and sees, behind the waitress, a glimpse of a man who has all the hallmarks of trying hard to look like he isn't paying attention.

His mouth goes dry and he picks Tali up instead of letting her walk the way he usually does. They head down to the Metro, which makes her clap her hands excitedly. They go to the Jardin de Tuileries. He doesn't let go of Tali the entire time. As they walk through the garden filled with tourists, he sees another glimpse of the same man. There is no doubt in his mind now that they are being followed. What he doesn’t know is why.

Swallowing down panic, he tries to think of what to do. For the first time since he quit NCIS, he wishes he is still an agent. At least then he'd have a gun. He wonders how long they have been followed but he knows why he didn’t notice before. He was too busy, first looking for Ziva and then bonding with Tali. Cursing silently to himself doesn't make him feel better but he does it anyway. 

If he was by himself, he would catch the man, find out why he is being followed. But he has Tali to consider, and he doesn’t think engaging is an option. It seems unlikely that they, whoever they are, wants to snatch Tali. They would have done it days ago, when Tony was too busy looking for Ziva. This seems more like surveillance. Like maybe they are waiting for them to be contacted by someone. His heart stops momentarily as he realizes it has to be connected to Ziva. Someone thinks she is still alive and may try to contact them. Maybe this means she is alive and unable to meet them in Paris because she is in trouble. 

Part of him wants to step up his attempts at finding her, so he can help her. But the other part of him knows that, if she is alive and in trouble, she would prefer that he keep their daughter safe. She sent Tali to him to keep her safe. As Gibbs so often reminded him, Ziva can take care of herself.

He wonders if maybe he is imagining all of this, that they aren’t actually being surveilled, to keep up the illusion that Ziva is alive out there somewhere and has a legitimate reason for not meeting them in Paris like he had thought she would. This is easier than having to think about her being dead. The line between reality and wishful thinking is so blurred he isn’t sure it exists anymore.

Later that night, he calls Gibbs. Not by video chat, because there is no way Gibbs could set that up by himself. When he hears the familiar voice’s gruff, “Yah,” he relaxes, just a little.

“Hey Boss,” he responds. It occurs to him that Gibbs actually isn’t his boss anymore, but he doesn’t know what else to call the man. Maybe, like Bruce Springsteen, he will always be the Boss.

Gibbs echoes his thoughts. “Not your boss anymore, DiNozzo. How’s Paris?”

“Uh, well.” He goes on to explain his suspicions of being watched and his theory that maybe Ziva is alive and in trouble, and then asks what he should do. Gibbs tries to pull a zen master move and turn the question around on him, but he’s not having any of it. He is sleep deprived, confused, and both in mourning and not. He needs to know what Leroy Jethro Gibbs would do.

A long pause. He starts to wonder if Gibbs really isn’t going to help him out, when the older man finally responds. “I would start by coming home. Might as well be on familiar terrain. My daughter’s safety would come first.” 

That night, he books them onto a flight back to DC at the end of the week. 

By this time, Tali is a flying pro. She walks with an important air through security like she knows exactly where she’s going and what she’s doing, Kelev tucked under her arm. As they wait to board the plane, she asks him, “Ima?” 

It is a question she has asked him at least once a day since they first stepped foot in Paris. He wonders if she remembers that he told her that Ima would be there, and if she’ll forgive him for lying to her. At some point, he’ll probably have to tell her that Ima is never coming back, but he holds off for now. For now, he tells her that they will see her soon. 

The flight home is uneventful, with Tali asleep most of the time, curled up on his lap. He doesn’t sleep. With no case to focus his thoughts on, he can only think of Ziva. Memories spring up of those weeks three years ago, of cherry blossoms and more happiness than he’d felt in a long time.

After they and McGee had resigned from NCIS to save Gibbs, they all suddenly had more free time than they had had in years. McGee spent a lot of time with his new girlfriend, Delilah, although he also had mumbled about finally having the time to write a new novel, which caused both Tony and Ziva to give him murderous looks. They had admitted later when McGee wasn’t with them that they were looking forward to what Agents Tommy and Lisa were up, as well as having something new with which to torture McGee.

With McGee otherwise occupied, this left Tony and Ziva with plenty of time to explore their recently repaired relationship. He voted to spend as much of it together in bed, naked, as possible. She had agreed, but then said she wanted to go to the Cherry Blossom Festival, which she had never been able to go to in the past, despite his pointing out that it was the tail end of the festival and there weren’t many blossoms left on the trees. After thinking it over, she added museums and various other historical landmarks that Schmeil, the historian, had told her about at some time or another. He grumbled about their time off sounding more like a sequence of school field trips. In response, she had merely smirked and made a comment about his maturity level. He had chased her into her bedroom, grabbed her around the waist, and tossed her onto the bed.

In between kisses and the shedding of clothing, he had agreed, on the condition that they went to the zoo at least once. She had opened her mouth to make another joke at his expense, but he had moved his hands lower on her body and the noise that came out of her mouth next was a moan instead.

They challenged each other as much as they did at work, but because no one’s life was in jeopardy and they weren’t in search of a dangerous suspect, even their fights had light-hearted aspects to it. Without the stress of the job and trusting that Gibbs would return from wherever he was and get them reinstated, Tony was upbeat on a regular basis. The regular sex with a woman he had worshipped for years helped as well. 

For all their differences, they had similar energy levels and were happiest when on the move, whether it was exploring parts of the city he had never paid attention to in the past, walking through parks, or doing more intimate activities. They even started working out together, although he suspected that she slowed herself down so he could keep up with her. 

They were together so often that even McGee noticed, although Abby had likely pointed it out to him first. The four of them were out for late night drinks one night when Abby had asked them whether they were living together since they seemed to be together constantly. Tony and Ziva had merely laughed and changed the subject. If Abby hadn’t already been rather tipsy, she might have pointed out their lack of an answer, but she had let it go.

The next morning, over a cereal breakfast, he had turned to her and said, “Why don’t we move in together?”

She finished chewing her mouthful, looking thoughtful. “Financially, it makes sense,” she said slowly. “But do you not think we would kill each other?”

“Isn’t that already a concern, Sweetcheeks? And actually, the concern is really you killing me, not the other way around.” She had arched an eyebrow, then shrugged, conceding the point. “We spend all our time together, anyway.”

She thought for another moment, furrowing her forehead. “Once this phase is over, though, what is it you call it? Something about a vacation? I think we will want our own spaces sometimes.”

He blinked. “Um, you mean honeymoon phase?” She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. Then he raised his eyebrows and asked, innocently, “What, we’re not always going to have this much sex?”

He can almost hear her laughter at that question still ringing in his ears. In all the time he has known her, she did not laugh as much as she laughed during those idyllic spring weeks. They had decided to put a pin in the moving in together question until she returned from what was supposed to be a brief trip to Israel. She had to take care of a few of her father’s affairs, she had said. A few days after she had gone, she had sent him a text message saying that she was taking an extra week to catch up with relatives and see old friends. He hadn’t thought anything about it and was even going to join her when his apartment had been fired upon, and all hell broke loose.

Although he wouldn’t admit it out loud, he would give up Tali if it meant he could go back to that spring and do things over. He would never have let her go to Israel on her own, where she got too far inside her head and let the darkness get to her. It’s possible that Tali would exist in some form today, but with two parents instead of one who is emotionally maxed out.

Tali sniffles a little and shifts in his arms, and he feels guilty for being so willing to bargain her away, but he can’t stop. 

Once they land, Senior meets them with Tony’s car. On the drive home, he mentally prepares himself for returning to his apartment. While he took Tali to Israel and then Paris mostly to find answers, he had also wanted to get away from DC, from his apartment in which Ziva spent so much time, the place in which she maybe would have lived had things gone differently. He fully expects the memories to hit him like a ton of bricks.

He wonders if he’ll ever stop thinking of places in terms of what she said or did there, and whether that will be better or worse.


	7. Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, and welcome to the penultimate chapter to this story. You'll notice that I've made some changes to the name of the story. As I will be writing a companion story, I decided to create a collection. 
> 
> As always, please leave feedback.
> 
> Lyrics at the beginning by Rachael Yamagata.

_If I can make you stay_  
_Convince you you'd be lost_  
_If we were torn apart_  
_If it remained unclear_  
_Between the two of us_  
_Which one would be the one_ _  
To break the other's heart_

 

Being back home is a relief, sort of. He missed his bed, his NCIS family, even Senior. The familiar is comforting. But it also reminds him of how much things have changed. In his bedroom is the pack n play where Tali sleeps, and her things are everywhere. They need to move. His one bedroom bachelor pad in the luxury apartment building is being outgrown at a rapid pace.

Senior helps, mostly. He loves his only granddaughter and spends more time with her in a day than he spent with his son in a year. He spoils her, giving her everything she wants. Ziva would have been horrified, he knows instinctively. Thankfully, Tali is sweet and does not ask for much beyond juice or crackers, but he realizes he'll need to set some boundaries with him, a conversation to which he doesn't look forward.

Plus, he needs to find a new job. This thought makes his eyes cross. All he has done since he graduated from college is law enforcement. He needs a job now that won’t put him in harm’s way on a daily basis, but he isn’t sure about his qualifications for less dangerous jobs. Tony DiNardo was a professor, but that Tony and this Tony are miles apart by this point. As much as he hates the thought of it, he wonders if there is an NCIS desk job for which he would be qualified. Desk jobs are boring and he strongly dislikes computers, but he looks at little Tali and knows that there is no way he can go back to being a field agent. Not when she has already lost her mother.

He still isn’t sure if Ziva is alive or not, but it has been almost two months since they received word that she had died and the only proof he has that she may be alive is a stonewalling Mossad director, a Swiss bank account that is now closed, and his gut. Sure, he’s the wild card, but the more time passes, the more he feels hope slipping away.

The uncertainty is the worst part. If he could only be sure that she is dead, he could sink down into sadness, then learn to live with it. But he is an optimist, even when he doesn’t want to be. If there is any possibility that she is alive, he will not be able to stop waiting for her to come back to him. He is reluctant to find a new apartment or even move to the suburbs, because she may be unable to find him if he moves, which is illogical but it sticks in his mind anyway..

Maybe he’ll get used to living in this sort of purgatory, unable to move on and never really knowing, but for now, it is torture.

At least he has his friends. Abby, McGee and Delilah, Palmer, and even Gibbs all volunteer to babysit Tali for a few hours, let him run errands or go see a movie by himself. He declines all the offers but appreciates them all the same. He can’t ascertain whether they are still being watched, and until he knows they are in the clear, he will not let Tali out of his sight.

So for now, purgatory.

He fills their days like they are tourists. They go to the zoo and all the places he and Ziva went during those spring weeks three years ago. He tells Tali more about her mother. This is easy to do, because everything reminds him of her. Tali exclaims over the lions lazing in the shade, and he tells her a story Ziva told him about a Mossad mission in Kenya, when she almost hit a lion while driving. When she had told him, he had asked how far off the road the lion was, and she had punched his arm and made it numb for two hours. “Ima was a really bad driver,” he tells their daughter.

There are so many things about her that he misses. He tries to capture her sense of humor, her independence, her good heart, her feistiness, her inability to understand idioms and colloquialisms, everything into these stories, but he feels like his words fall short. Ziva David was a force to be experienced, and it makes him ache in his bones to know that their daughter will not remember her. His mother died when he was a child, but at least it wasn't until he was old enough to form memories of her. Tali won't remember her mother at all.  All he can do is tell her these stories that aren't enough.

On their adventures around the city, he looks out for any uninvited guests. His gut remains silent, and he thinks that maybe they aren't being tailed here. Whoever they are, they must think she is in Europe and would not come to the US. Or they have learned that she did in fact die and there is no longer a need to watch a grieving man and his daughter.

He thinks back to all the time they could have had but didn't, the moments that came and went. There were so many reasons at the time, from “she's my partner” to “the timing isn't right” to “Rule 12” but the truth is that he knew then that he would come to regret not listening to his heart. He just hadn't expected the blowback to be so explosive.

There was that time in the bullpen, when he had asked her if she considered him to be part of her life. The look in her eyes, as her smile faded and her expression turned serious, had signaled something. He had let the gaze go on too long, and her phone had rung, breaking the magic of the moment.

If he could go back, he would have kissed her then, Rule 12 be damned. They ended up breaking that rule anyway. Even if everything else had somehow played out the same way, at least they would have had another year together. He would have had more time to get further under her skin so maybe she would have been unable to push him away when her father died.

In truth, he should have acted after they returned from Somalia. He had spearheaded a suicide mission to avenge her death, and when they had instead found her and rescued her from months of captivity, that had been a sign. He thought he was being sensitive, giving her space to heal after what had happened to her. He should have just told her how he felt, why he needed revenge when he thought she was dead. It was the grandest of gestures, really, and he had thought that said enough. But it wasn’t enough. He should have told her that he loved her every day until she finally listened, until she finally realized that it wasn’t about what you deserve or what other people think, that it was about following your gut and doing what you know to be right.

It is a lesson that they both learned too late, if she ever learned it at all.

And now he lives with the regrets and ghosts of what could have been, all while tasked with raising their daughter, the one tangible proof of their deep commitment to each other. He wishes Tali did not have to grow up with a father who lives half in the past but he cannot help it. There will maybe come a time when he will stop living in purgatory, even if he never gets definitive proof of her death, and then maybe he will be able to get go of the ghosts. Or he will end up like Gibbs, pushing away anyone who tries to get too close and preferring the company of alcohol and a half-finished boat.

No, he won’t be like Gibbs, because Gibbs lost his daughter and he still has his. She will pull him through just by existing. She is the gift that he wishes had been delivered another way but a gift nonetheless.

One day, Director Vance calls him to request a meeting. Vance himself calls, not his secretary. Tony agrees to come to the NCIS building in which he worked for so long. He brings Tali, because it must have to do with Ziva and in any case, Senior has temporarily gone back to New York, and there is no one with whom to leave her.

His old team is in the bullpen, working a case, and they are excited to see him and Tali. McGee seems to be getting comfortable in his new role as senior field agent. He and Ellie eagerly offer to watch Tali while he is in the director’s office. Gibbs says nothing when he takes them up on their offer, but Tony sees the silver haired man smile gently at the toddler who looks so much like his Ziver.

Vance has no news regarding Ziva. In fact, he still believes her to be dead, since that is the official word. Instead, he has a job offer for the former agent. Something better than a desk job. The NCIS SABTP needs a new instructor and Vance could make a call. Tony had forgotten about the special agent training program because he never went through it, and he has to ask whether he is qualified.

At this, Vance smirks. “You were Senior Field Agent for MCRT for how long? Trust me, you’re qualified.” He explains how he will have to take a two week crash course to become certified as an FLETC instructor. After a pause, he adds, “You’ll have to move to FLETC headquarters in Glynco, Georgia.”

Tony stares at Vance. He doesn’t even want to move to another apartment in DC. Moving to a new state entirely sounds impossible. At the same time, he wonders if the move wouldn’t be good for him and Tali. A fresh start, away from ghosts, where nobody knows his tragic story, and he is just another single dad raising a daughter.

He tells the director that he will think about it and let him know the next day. Vance nods and waves him out of his office. His thoughts swirling, he goes back down to the bullpen. McGee and Ellie ask him what the director wanted, and he explains about the instructor opening. Ellie looks excited but McGee frowns. “So you’re moving to Georgia?” he asks. Ellie, like Tony and Ziva, had skipped the training academy, and doesn’t know about FLETC being in Glynco. Her face freezes.

“I don’t know yet.” He gathers Tali up in his arms and heads for the elevators. The one that arrives first is the same one in which he and Ziva were stuck for hours. He tells Tali a story about that incident, about how hot it was, how he and her ima had talked about so many things, how that had turned into the turning point for their relationship. The story lasts until they arrive back at their apartment, where he puts Tali down for her nap.

He does not want to leave this city, where he had met Ziva, fallen in love with her. All the memories haunt him but they also provide him with some comfort, as if they are reminders that this complex woman had existed. He had thought about moving from DC twice in the past. The first time was when he had been offered the team leader position in Rota. The second was when he was in Israel, about to leave Ziva but also thinking about what would happen if he had moved to Tel Aviv. Another regret, another thing he wishes he had done.

He pours himself a glass of apple juice and sits on his couch, the couch where he and Ziva had watched so many movies, and he knows that tomorrow, he will call Vance and accept the offer. They will move and they will start anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I realize the end to this chapter is kinda sad, but please stick with me. I remember the tags I put for this story, I know how the final chapter is going to go, it was always going to go this way.


	8. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers! Enjoy the last chapter. Lyrics by Sleeping At Last.
> 
> I guess I should disclaim myself again: Not my characters, just borrowing them. Etc etc.

 

_Down my arms_

_A thousand satellites suddenly discover signs of life._

 

The move from DC to Georgia is not as painful as he thought it would be. Abby throws a going away party at Gibbs’, and he gets one last perfectly grilled steak. Abby cries, Ducky tells some anecdotes, and Tony will miss them a lot. The entire NCIS family, minus Gibbs, agree that they will start accepting all offers to guest lecture at FLETC, thus giving them an excuse to visit Tony and Tali. Gibbs just nods at him, tells him he is making a good choice.

He decides to rent out his apartment instead of selling it right away. The monthly rent check he gets in his mailbox more than covers the remaining mortgage. The cost of living near Glynco is so much lower, he is able to easily afford a decent sized yet cozy house that he thinks Ziva would have liked. 

Moving from DC has not relieved him of the feeling that he is living half in the present and half in the past. The new job helps, gives him something else to think about. He learns about teaching theories and lesson plans, and most of those go by the wayside as he thinks of the way Gibbs taught him everything he knows about investigating and interviewing. He weaves as many movie references into class lectures as possible because that is who he is. 

After careful research and some consulting with Palmer and Breena, he finds a daycare center for Tali. For the first week, she cries every morning when he drops her off, then like the teacher predicted, she adjusts and she runs off to play before he even leaves the center. 

On the weekends, he takes her to the beach, where they chase the waves and hunt for seashells. Tali has no fear of the water like some of the other toddlers he sees at the beach. He thinks Ziva must have taken her to the beach, maybe the family home in Haifa. She naps under the sun umbrella he sticks in the sand, and he watches her, watches the ocean advance and retreat. He thinks about how much Ziva would have liked it here. Maybe it would have reminded her of her childhood summers. She would have missed the snow but he would not have missed worrying about her driving in the winter.

He isn’t sure when the shift happened, but at some point, he started thinking of her more in terms of past tense. A few weeks pass, then a month, then two. They settle into their new lives. If she is alive, he hopes she knows that he will always be waiting for her. If she is dead, then he supposes she will never know.

It is much easier to tell if they are being followed here. He is certain that they are not. Whoever they were, they have either been killed or are satisfied with whatever they saw. Gibbs had looked into it before they moved but had not been able to find any answers. 

His new colleagues ask if he is married, if he has children. He smiles and proudly shows them pictures of Tali on his phone. The nosier colleagues ask about her mother and he looks down, clears his throat, genuinely does not know what to tell them. They think that she has died and do not ask again. Some of the younger women give him interested smiles but he ignores them. He will not be Gibbs, leaving behind a string of ex-wives who will never be able to live up to the standards set by the love of his life.

One Friday afternoon, after a day of preparing for a new class of special agent trainees, or pre-probies, as he refers to them, he picks Tali up from daycare. She jabbers as they drive home and he picks up words here and there, understanding that she learned about bumblebees today. He wonders if two year olds can have honey and resolves to look it up once they get home.

As they step through the front door of their house, his gut tells him immediately that something is off. Maybe the man who was following them in Paris had found them. Maybe it is nothing and there is nothing wrong with his gut. Still, he will take no chances.

He ushers Tali into the half bath on the main floor, tells her it is a game and that she must be quiet and hide until he comes back. Then he goes over to the small safe where he keeps his handgun and loads it quickly, quietly. He creeps through his house, clearing the kitchen, the living room, the rest of the downstairs rooms one by one. That leaves the bedrooms upstairs. 

Tali’s room is clear, although he registers that Kelev is not in his usual spot on her toddler bed. Maybe she brought him downstairs to eat breakfast this morning. He cannot remember.

He goes to his room across the hall. The door is half shut, and he quietly slips into the room. The blinds are drawn, but he can see a figure on his new queen sized bed. His frown deepens as he steps inside the darkened room, gun aimed steadily at the person who seems to be sleeping. “Hey, Goldilocks,” he says harshly. Then it registers that the intruder is slim, a woman, with dark curls. A familiar form, one he has been dreaming about for months. He lowers the gun and forgets how to breathe.

“Ziva?” he whispers, stepping closer, unable to identify the feeling bubbling up from his feet. 

She sits up and looks at him, still hugging the stuffed dog to her chest. His jaw drops and he drinks in her appearance as his eyes adjust to the lack of light. There is a fading bruise on her forehead near her temple and some scratches on her arms. More importantly, she is alive in front of him, breathing and blinking back at him.

He tries to collect his swirling thoughts, and manages to ask, “Am I hallucinating?”

“No. Would you like me to hit you to prove it?” she replies, her voice serious and laced with sleep.

He opens his mouth but the answer sticks in his throat. He swallows, tries again to speak. “Is it over?”

“Yes,” she responds simply. He sits on the edge of the bed, still looking at her. If he looks away, she might disappear again. She finally breaks eye contact to look past him into the hallway. “Where is Tali?”

“Downstairs, hiding in the bathroom. I should get her,” he says, standing. 

She scrambles off the bed. “No, let me do it. Please,” she says, and then fairly flies out of the room before he can give a response.

As if in a dream, he follows her down the stairs. “Ima!!” He hears the high pitched squeal, and Ziva’s quieter gasp of “Tali.” Inside the bathroom, mother holds daughter, tears flow freely, and they cling to each other fiercely. He hears Ziva whispering something into their daughter’s ear, and all he can do is stand there and watch as his brain slowly catches up with recent events.

Eventually, Ziva turns to him, Tali still clinging to her. Before she can say anything, Tali points to him and tells her, “Abba.”

Ziva smiles and says, “Yes.” His brain finally seems to register the scene in front of him and relief washes over him in waves that threaten to knock him down. He smiles back, gathers his family into his arms and they all hug in the small bathroom.

After some time, Tali squirms and asks for juice. Once she is settled on the floor with a sippy cup of apple juice and a wooden puzzle, Tony and Ziva sit on the couch behind her. He watches Ziva watch their daughter and waits for her to speak. 

Finally, she looks at him. Hesitation in her familiar brown eyes, she starts. “Tony...” That is all she can manage to get out before tears spring into her eyes again. 

She seems to think that he is angry with her. All he can feel is relief that she is alive, that Tali will have two parents raising her, that he gets another chance, that he doesn't have to spend the rest of his life living with ghosts and regrets. He smiles gently at her, puts his hand over hers, laces their fingers together, squeezes her hand.

“Did you go to Paris?” she asks. He nods. She explains how the original plan was to meet them there. How Orli knew a week before the farmhouse was fired upon that Trent Kort had gone rogue, not Jacob Scott, how he was eventually going to come for Ziva, thinking she had her father's files. She did not. Orli did, which was how she knew. They planned to fake her death to get Tali safely to Tony. Ziva had left clues for him, knowing what that he would understand and would go to Paris.

“But,” she says, “You were being followed by Kort's men, so I couldn't join you in Paris.”

She continues on, explaining that Kort’s network was more extensive than they had anticipated, that killing Kort, which Ziva had known Tony and the NCIS team would do, was not enough. To truly be safe, the empire he had built behind the CIA’s back needed to be dismantled. So, with Orli's help, this was what she had been doing for the last few months, crisscrossing across Europe. “But now,” she concludes, “it is done.”

“So you’re here for good?” he asks, unable to stop his smile from growing wider. 

She nods, then hesitates. “If that is alright with you.”

He shakes his head at her, brings the hand he is still holding to his lips, kisses her knuckles. He flashes back briefly to another life, when he kissed the same hand in an olive grove. This time, he knows she will neither leave nor send him away. In this gesture, he relays just how alright with him it is that she wants to stay. 

“I know we have a lot to discuss,” she says. 

“All that matters is that you're here,” he replies, and means it. She does not apologize and he does not ask her to do so. During his journey through grief, he had already forgiven her for not telling him about Tali, for forcing him to leave her, for all the misunderstandings over the years. It isn't about who said what or did what or who didn't trust enough. It's about being in the present and, for the first time in a long time for both of them, looking to the future and liking what they see.

That weekend, they take their daughter to the beach. For her part, Tali adjusts immediately to having both her parents in her life at the same time, like she knows this is the way it should have been all along. She walks between them, holding their hands, her short legs stumbling a little on the uneven sand. They watch her, and watch each other over her head. 

At night, they put Tali to bed together, each reading her a book. Then the rest of the night is dedicated to rediscovering each other. She notes how he has gotten over his fear of children. He notes that her skin still tastes the same. They laugh and kiss and she comments about the new bed and he tackles her, covering her body with his own. And finally, finally, they shed the sorrows and regrets of the past.

They will build a life in this new place, with new careers, and a daughter they will raise together. Here, the old ghosts can't chase them, and they will create new memories, ones filled with laughter and the ocean and each other. 

  
End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, a happy ending after all. I didn't want to write another story where they reunite in Paris. I wanted him to go through the stages of grief, to accept that maybe he would have to live without her. And once he let go, then she would come back to him.


End file.
